


The life that was never led

by Gaia_bing



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Ghosts, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_bing/pseuds/Gaia_bing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Agron is standing on the cross, he is visited by the spirit of someone he's seen long ago and that has come back to show him... the life that he could have lead if he hadn't caused the spirit's own death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The life that was never led

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me!

They were all standing, arms reached out, with rusty nails piercing right through them. Agron weakly opened his eyes and looked to his left and to his right. Gannicus, Naevia, Crixus, Mira, Lugo, Oenomaus, among plenty of others, were suffering the same fate that he was: slowly dying on a cross  And there, all the way back and up that hill, as a message for others not to fuck with Rome, was their fallen leader, Spartacus, standing in the same position that they all were.

Their...their attempt at rebelling had failed. After fighting valiantly for what seemed like an eternity, some of them had been killed on the spot while the others, just like himself and his friends, had been captured and crucified.

Agron didn't know how long he'd been up there, but he knew two things: one, that each breath was harder to take than the last and two, that someone was staring at him from down below.

Leaning his head down, Agron blinked as he saw a man, in a long brown overcoat, looking upwards in curiosity at him with his dark eyes, as his long dark hair caught into the flowing wind.

This...this man...Agron had seen that man before. But where and when?

"Would you look at yourself, you sad fuck? You and your fellow rebels, defeated and displayed like finest flowers inside Roman garden. All of this, all for nothing." the man underneath him said with cruelty in his voice.

"Who...who is it that you are? How do you have knowledge of own existence?" Agron called out weakly.

"I may be an image of wildly running imagination or I may be dying wish as you stand up there drawing last breath..." the man said and suddenly, to Agron's complete stupefaction, he wasn't standing on the ground anymore, but was now looking at him face-to-face. "Or I could be vengeful spirit that has come to laugh at own faith."

Agron's eyes filled themselves with fear as the other man's head was now only a few inches from his own, his dark eyes full of anger and hatred.

"Who...who is it that you are?" he finally said in a trembling voice.

The apparition smiled slightly at that question and approaching his head even closer to Agron's, he whispered right by his ear:

"I am the body slave that you put to death so long ago, remember? The one that made attempt at Spartacus' life and that you decided was not good enough for training, and even less for this world, and plunged dagger through chest because of it?"

Yes...Agron remembered it all now. That was why this man looked so familiar: he was the man that had tried to kill their leader after they'd liberated his villa, so long ago. And when he'd been caught and Spartacus, Crixus and himself were deciding upon his fate, he had made the decision for them all, by taking the same dagger that the body slave had tried to use earlier that evening, and had stabbed the man to death for his misdeed. He had never regretted this decision, knowing that whoever were joining their cause would have to be agreeable to it unless they wanted to suffer the same fate as this man that he didn't know the name of....

Until right now, with all of them and their cause defeated, and the ghost of the dead man sneering at him as Agron was reaching the end of his pitiful life..

"What do you want, you cunt? Finish what has already been started? Take me to where Hades resides for all eternity? Come on, try your worst, vengeful spirit."

The spirit smiled wickedly at him as he approached his head once more and his lips, just an inch from Agron's, whispered right against them:

"Oh no, I was not sent here to do such things. These would all feel like Elysian fields compared to what I am about to show self..."

And, as his cold lips collided with Agron's still warm ones, the short haired man saw it all.

This...this was the existence that he never lived. An existence where somehow, while still laying down his life, Spartacus had freed them all and had not failed in his mission.

And he...he was happy, so happy. He'd been living with Roman hatred and rage and hurt and vengeance inside his heart, ever since they had taken his younger brother away from him. But here, somehow, he'd gotten over all of that because... a place inside his heart had been liberated for...

The man that had been taunting him this whole time. He could see himself and the other man, getting to know one another, risking their lives for one another...kissing, touching, even... loving.

And how, how much did this Agron loved this other man. And how much did this other man loved Agron. He could feel it all inside his own heart and once he obtained just a drop of this love, he only wanted more...

More of this, more of this love, more of this freedom, more of this everything.

But all of that...that wasn't his life, that wasn't his fate. Because he had failed. He had failed to give this body slave a second chance, he had failed along with Spartacus to obtain freedom and he had even failed his younger brother by not receiving the vengeance that he'd swore he'd help procure his sibling, while silently weeping upon his grave.

And here he was now, slowly dying, rotting away like the sad fuck that he really was.

The ghost retreated his lips from the unmoving man's and smiled once again as he saw the astonished expression on the other man's face. Slowly, he raised one hand and gently cupped Agron's stubbly face as he whispered:

"If yourself desires own opinion: you and I would have made such wonderful living couple, do you not agree?"

And slowly retreating back, as he faded away into the sunset, the spirit said to Agron, before completely disappearing and leaving him to his rotten fate:

_"And to think, you do not even have knowledge of my name."_

And all Agron could do, while heaving shallow breath after shallow breath, was to scream out into the night sky:

"Please, please return! Apologies for what has been done! Apologies!"

But his calls were never answered and the life that Agron has never led ended in that moment, inside that Roman camp, as the stars filled up the sky and the crosses were littered with alive and dead bodies.

Agron belonging now in the latter category.


End file.
